A Dream From Yesterday
by Switchblades and Sunsets
Summary: Sometimes, Ponyboy discovers, it's easier not to remember a dream. Sometimes, nightmares can turn in the blink of an eye to a dream that has a stronger pull than any reality. What would you give up for the possibility to live your heart's deepest desire?
1. The First Dream

**S.E Hinton owns the Outsiders, 100% borrowed characters ahead. Enjoy!**

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I'm running, running until there's no breath left in my body but my feet are stepping on thin air and there's nothing I can do to escape… it's pulling me towards it by the neck and I can't even turn my head all the way to see what it is. Panic pounds in my chest and without knowing why or how I know I can't look down, that if I look down all is lost.

_"They're all gone."_

"Shut _up_!" I shout, my voice cracking in desperation but I can't stop the calm, unseen voice from echoing again and again in my mind, sapping the last of my will and my strength. Don't look down. Don't look down.

And yet, it's as if an unseen force forces my eyes down to see what I won't ever forget.

The sea of faces stares up at me, the same four faces multiplied by infinity beyond the edges of my vision, stretching on forever. Mom. Dad. Johnny. Dallas.

They are the dead, and as one, they point an accusatory finger straight at me. Their mouths open and inside is utter blackness, seeping out and threatening to swallow me whole. I scream, but am frozen in place, unable to move.

_"All your fault all your fault all your fault…" _The words are like curses, filled with sheer hate and filling me with an icy dread, knowing it's true, it's all true…

And just like that, I fall. The sky's ablaze with red and silver and pink and orange, a sinister parody of the sunrises of Windrixville. Even in the sky, whirling around me like a tornado as I plummet on and on to horrors beyond my imagination, their faces are carved in every layer.

_"Join us…"_

"I will!" I scream the promise in pure terror, not even knowing what I'm saying. This is the answer they want, and I know it's cowardly but I'll give them anything. Anything to end this torture.

And then it does. A black hole, like the hole of their mouths but ten million times bigger, opens up below me and I'm still screaming as I fall towards it at the speed of light.

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My eyes snap open, and I lay there, trying to quiet my ragged breathing. Sometime during the nightmare I'd pushed the sheets off the bed, and for a minute I close my eyes before standing up.

As always, I can't remember the dream at all. Maybe it's better that way, but it sure is creepy.

"Soda? Darry?" I call warily, my voice weirdly echoing. No response. The house is silent, uncharacteristically so. Our house is never silent.

There's a bad feeling deep inside me and I realize I'm holding my breath as I walk carefully through the house, glancing in every room. Nobody. None of the sheets are even disturbed, no unwashed dishes in the sink. No note from Darry telling me where everyone is.

I'm already at the door when I realize what's wrong. Everything's too clean. Even the stains on the couch that have been there since I can remember are gone. Cracks on the wall, disappeared. There's a layer of dust on top of everything, the only proof that the house isn't a museum.

I shiver despite the sweatshirt, and head outside. It's not much better. One glance at the neighbouring houses is enough to tell me that no one's inside. Some of the windows and doors are boarded up. Even the movie house.

I shake my head in disbelief. What's going on? Where is everyone?

At least the streets aren't as spotless as the inside of my house. Cigarette butts and stray wrappers litter the streets. Despite that, though, not a breeze runs through the place and not a single person can be seen. None of the honking and raucous laughter I've grown used to around this side of town. Absolute silence.

It's a ghost town.

I cross my arms in front of my chest, cold fear creeping into my heart despite the windless air. Something's gonna happen. I know it.

The moment the thought crosses my mind, something does. Almost as if my thinking it is what causes it; triggers what happens next.

Smoke.

It's gushing into the still air a few blocks down from where I'm standing. Without thinking, without doing much of anything, I run towards it and within seconds the burning building is right in front of me. There's no time to wonder how I got there so fast because flames are pouring out of its smashed up windows and I know it's gonna collapse right before my eyes.

No time to think about why the building looks so familiar and so out of place at the same time.

There's buckets and buckets of water lying around at my feet all of a sudden and I don't pause to wonder where they came from, I just grab as many as I can carry and run into the building, pouring water all over the place even as I start coughing my lungs out.

I have no idea why I'm so desperate, but I _can't_ let this building fall. I don't know why.

I just can't.

I hear the roof crackling above me but I only run faster, towards the farthest locked door. I pound on it desperately, refusing to give up for a reason I still can't quite figure out. It won't open no matter how hard I try, though, as if bound by cement.

"Someone help me!" I yell, knowing full well that nobody's around to hear me, that this is pure insanity. But I just have to get this door to open no matter what it costs me.

What I don't expect are the voices that drift out from inside the locked door.

It's them.

But it can't be, I try to reason with myself, they're dead. Buried six feet in the ground. They can't be in this room.

But they _are_. Clear as anything, they're speaking to me and even though I can't see them I know it's them.

"Guys, help me!" I shout, renewing my efforts of pounding on the door but they're still saying something, completely ignoring me and what else can I do but listen?

"…to choose," Johnny's saying. "You gotta choose, Pony. Us or them."

"What?" I yell in confusion. I don't understand. What is he talking about? "C'mon, Johnny, hurry! The roof's gonna give and you guys gotta get out of there. _Now_! Please, help me! I-" I'm about to continue but the new voice silences me. Dallas.

"Kid, stop hollering and start listening. Time is one thing you ain't got." His voice is unbelievably calm, calmer than it ever was in life.

"Ponyboy, sweetie, listen to me."

I stand stock still, forgetting the fire still raging all around me, lost in the latest voice. It's Mom. I haven't heard her voice in so long it hurts.

"Listen. You have two choices. It's us or them, dear. Look outside. Look outside and you'll understand."

I do. Through the window on my right (was it there before? I'm sure it wasn't there before) I can see out of the burning building and my eyes widen.

It's my brothers. What's left of the gang. They're watching me with eyes that hide something terrible. Eyes that beckon me, eyes that are almost pulling me outside, towards them.

They're the living.

Time slows. And I finally understand what they're saying.

I look back at the closed door as if I can see through the wood to make out the faces I long to see, my mouth open with horror at the realization. This is what they're talking about.

The Choice.

If I stay here, die in the fire, I get to join the people behind the locked door. I'm sure of it. And I'll never see the living again. But if I choose to leave now, break the window and escape before the roof collapses, I'll never see _their_ faces. It aches to think that I'm so close, but so far from seeing them again.

How do they expect me to choose?

"Ponyboy." It's Dad, his voice solemn but starting to fade away. It scared me more than the thought of dying in the fire. "Choose wisely, kid. But you don't have time. Fourteen seconds." By now his voice is barely a whisper and my mind is a blur of indecision.

"How can I choose?" I whisper, falling on to my knees as time returns to its normal speed and my fourteen seconds whiz by before my eyes.

_"Six seconds."_

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**Review? I promise I do have a plot for this one… It'll all make sense soon, hopefully. :)**


	2. Reality

**I do not own the Outsiders. -bows to the amazing SE Hinton-**

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I sat up so quickly my sheets went flying, breathing so hard you'd think I just ran an entire marathon at a sprint. Sunshine poured into the room through the dirt-streaked window someone had opened. All I could do was breathe.

"Hey, what gives, Pone?" my brother mumbled sleepily. Soda opened his eyes halfway, fumbled with the alarm clock I'd completely forgotten about and turned it off before sitting up, yawning.

He'd already gotten his jeans on and was looking all over the room for his DX shirt before he caught the look I had to have on my face.

"You okay, Pony?" he asked carefully, but I could tell he knew I wasn't. "Another nightmare?"

"Nah, I'm fine," I lied, trying and failing to look nonchalant.

"Sure," he drawled, and let the matter slide. For now. He knew I'd tell him sooner or later anyway.

I sighed, stared at the cracks on the wall for a moment, and started getting ready for school. As my focus switched from the imaginary land of dreams to the problem of which jeans and shirts were relatively clean, the nightmare first lost its vivid quality then disappeared entirely.

Just like they always did.

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It was just one of those days.

I couldn't pay attention in any of my classes, and you can bet the teachers weren't happy about that. I was put on the spot to answer a question I didn't know the answer to three times throughout the day, in front of dozens of smirking Socs no less.

Sometimes I really wondered if it was worth the effort of stayed in A classes. Darry would kill me if I dropped out of any of those classes, though.

PE was never the same anymore without Johnny there. It had been months, but once in a while I still expected to turn and see his face among the crowds of people running laps on the track. And then I'd remember I'd never see him or Dally again and I'd feel like someone punched me in the gut. Those moments were the worst.

"Concentrate, Curtis!"

I snapped out of my reverie at Coach Davis's sharp voice. Just in time, too. A basketball was whizzing towards my face and I caught it out of sheer instinct. For a moment I just stood there, dumbstruck. There was no one I knew in the temporary team I got put in. Why would someone pass the ball to me, of all people?

Then I caught the evil grin a guy on the opposite team was wearing, and I got it. Of course. I shook my head furiously and dribbled the ball with newfound determination, charging straight through the cluster of opposing players. I must've caught them off guard, because they didn't even try stopping me as I shot the ball into the hoop with a swish.

I smiled and jogged back as everyone realized what was happening and ran to get the rebound. That'd show them. I knew it was a fluke, but at least they'd have nothing to jeer about. At least I didn't end up with a black eye or something from getting hit with the ball.

If Johnny were here, he'd have been proud.

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Gym was my last class, so I didn't bother changing afterwards and got a head start home. We'd been having a warm front lately but today the winter weather was going full blast and the wind soon became so cold that I quickly regretted not changing out of the t-shirt and shorts. Pretty soon I broke into a run to keep warm and got home in record time.

Steve and Soda were sprawled out in front of the TV, and glanced up when I entered.

"Hey, Pone. How was school?" Soda asked casually.

"Fine," I called as I headed straight to the bathroom to have a quick hot shower. Darry was trying to save on gas bills which meant it was as cold inside the house as it was out. At least there was still enough hot water to go by, I thought as I let the steaming stream run over my face. I'd always liked hot showers- they were comforting. For a few minutes you could pretend all was right with the world.

For a few minutes I could close my eyes and pretend Johnny and Dally and even my parents were still alive. Maybe they are, I thought dreamily. Maybe they're still with us. Maybe all that's hiding them from us is an invisible veil or a locked door…

A locked door. My eyes snapped open and I nearly choked on the water as last night's dream suddenly became as real as a memory. That just didn't happen to me- My dreams always disappeared within a minute or two of waking up. Always. Even the worst nightmares, I could never remember. As eerie as it was, it was also comforting, in a strange kinda way. Almost like I lived in two separate worlds that were parallel, but couldn't touch each other.

But now… Now, that barrier was broken and memories of the dream came flooding back. Every detail of the burning building, every hazy voice on the other side of the locked door, every excruciating moment of indecision leading to the moment I woke up. And all of it scared me something awful.

Maybe there was a good reason why in the past, I could never remember my dreams. Maybe it was my subconscious putting up shields so I wouldn't go crazy.

The water was starting to grow colder but I barely noticed. I could've stayed in that shower for hours, just reliving the dream, if it hadn't been for Steve banging on the bathroom door.

"Ponyboy! What the hell are ya doing in there that's takin' so long?"

The voice brought me back to reality and with a gasp like a diver breaking the surface of the water after a long submersion, I turned off the water and stumbled out of the shower in one move. I dried off and pulled on some clothes in such a rush that I wouldn't've known if I put my pants on backwards.

Steve was still complaining loudly outside the door and when I opened it out of nowhere he was nearly knocked to the ground.

"Hey! Watch it, kid," he said, the surprise in his voice diluting his irritation. I barely heard him as I rushed to the room I shared with Soda, scrambling for the nearest pen and paper. Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to find- I kept notebooks and writing stuff all over the place.

And then I wrote. Everything. The memory of the dream was still fresh and as vivid as it would ever be in my mind, but it was slowly fading. And I wanted desperately to remember this one.

Somewhere in the background I heard Soda and Steve talking about the strange way I was acting, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting everything down. Five minutes or so later, I'd written everything I could and I let out a long sigh of relief. I threw the pen and notebook on to my pillow and collapsed on the bed.

Maybe that'd be the end of it, I thought half-heartedly. But I knew the stronger part of me wanted to know what would happen if I chose the dead. After all, it was just a dream and wouldn't affect anything in real life, right? I could choose to go with the dead and see their faces again with no real consequences. The idea brought a longing smile to my face. I could live with the living and be with the dead too…

The thought kept me occupied for the rest of the entire day. I couldn't eat anything at dinner or say much more than one word replies, and I knew by the worried looks Soda and Darry gave me that they thought there was something wrong.

But I was just impatient, that was all. Impatient to sleep and to revisit that dream, hopefully carry it out a bit further. I was apprehensive, though. What if I couldn't remind myself in that dreaming state that this wasn't real and that I was allowed to choose the dead? What if I took too long to decide and the chance flew away? What if I couldn't get myself to dream the same situation? What if I didn't remember the dream tomorrow even if it did work out?

So many what ifs, I thought as I mulled over my toothbrush, staring into the cracked mirror. Only time would tell, though, and not much of it either. As soon as I fell asleep…

"Pony, c'mere a minute," Soda called from right outside the door. "Just forget that dang toothbrush. God, you've been in there for twenty minutes."

"Sorry, gimme a moment…" I finished brushing my teeth and ran ice-cold water over my face. Then I walked over to where Soda was sitting on the bed and lay down, trying to seem completely normal. "What's the matter?"

"Funny, I could ask you the same thing," Soda said, raising an eyebrow and not fooled the least bit. "You've been actin' weird all day, Pony."

I sighed, sitting up and leaning against the wall. "I'm fine." I paused, then admitted with a sheepish smile, "Aw, you know me too well, Soda. It's just the dream from last night. I remember it and it's kinda interesting so I've been thinking about it. No big deal. Really."

He looked at me carefully for a few seconds, then seemed to believe me and flashed a teasing grin. "Not about some girl, was it? Well, lookie here, our little Pony's finally growing up. So what's she like?" He flipped off the light as I lay back down in the bed.

"Shut up, Soda," I said, laughing as I stared into the darkness of the room. "It ain't a girl." Honestly though, I was just relieved to come up with an explanation that was true and wouldn't make him worry at the same time. And it was true.

But if it was true, why was I feeling so damn guilty? That was the unhappy thought tugging at the back of my head even as I drifted into a deep sleep.

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**Reviews would be very appreciated. :)**


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